


tell me we'll never get used to this

by murderousdeer



Category: Holby City
Genre: Fluff, Holby City Secret Valentine, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderousdeer/pseuds/murderousdeer
Summary: There’s no earthshattering moment, there’s no angel choir or thrilling of bells. There’s Lofty. He’s pressed on Dom’s side, shoulder to thigh, his hair is flattened on one side from where he was leaning onto Dom’s shoulder earlier and a rare ray of sunshine is illuminating half his face. He lets out a soft gasp at something the tv detective just said and Dom thinks “I could do this forever.”





	tell me we'll never get used to this

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Holby City Secret Valentine event for [Katie](http://clawing-ravens.tumblr.com/). It's not exactly what you asked for, but it was written in that spirit, so I hope you like it! It's also my first Holby City fic! Exciting!
> 
> Title from this poem:
> 
> "Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.  
> These, our bodies, possessed by light.  
> Tell me we'll never get used to it."  
>                               - Richard Siken, _Sherazade_ , Crush

Dom decides to propose to Lofty on a Saturday afternoon. It’s not a special or significant Saturday afternoon. It’s a day like any other, except it’s the first day in forever they’ve both had free. They’re in Dom’s apartment (but really, it’s their apartment at this point), on the couch, they’re watching Netflix and Lofty is engrossed in some sort of prestige crime show about policemen with _issues_ who are brilliant at their job. Dom has been mentally checking out since about five minutes in. In his defense, he works with a bunch of brilliant narcissists already, he doesn’t need fictional ones.

Then it happens.

There’s no earthshattering moment, there’s no angel choir or thrilling of bells. There’s Lofty. He’s pressed on Dom’s side, shoulder to thigh, his hair is flattened on one side from where he was leaning onto Dom’s shoulder earlier and a rare ray of sunshine is illuminating half his face. He lets out a soft gasp at something the tv detective just said and Dom thinks “I could do this forever.”

He lets himself have a moment of panic over it. It’s big and it’s daunting and it’s something Dom’s never felt. He never felt so bone deep sure of wanting something like this. Well, except for his career in medicine, but careers in medicine can’t break your heart.

Dom looks at Lofty’s profile. Neither will Lofty.

They’re not perfect, not by any means, they both have problems and personality quirks they’re still learning to navigate together, more than a year into their relationship. But they’re solid. Lofty is solid. Dom’s never experienced it before, having someone who is always honest, who is always unapologetically himself, and who always demands the same from him. It’s steadying and exciting in the best kind of way.

“What?” Lofty asks looking up from the screen and noticing Dom staring at him.

“So, the husband did it?” Dom asks.

Thankfully, Lofty launches in on an explanation of the show’s plot. Dom only half listens to it, his mind already somewhere else.

-

It takes Dom two weeks to set everything in motion. Two weeks in which his resolve doesn’t waver, not even once. He’s almost impressed with himself.

-

First, it’s the tickets.

Dom likes musicals, but he’s more of a movie musical fan. He likes his big budgets and his divas. Give him Meryl in Mamma Mia every day of the week and he’s happy.

Lofty _loves_ musicals though, he loves them more than anyone Dom’s ever known. And he loves stage productions the most. He loves the big ensembles and social relevance and the showstoppers.

They usually manage to compromise. This time though, it’s not about compromise, it’s all about what Lofty wants.

He calls Zosia.

“Where would I go to find some good West End show tickets? I need something good and upscale.” He asks in lieu of a greeting.

“Why would I know that?” Zosia asks without missing a beat. It’s good to know she’s still sharp despite the ocean dividing them.

“I distinctively remember you and Ollie going on theater dates.” He says. He’s laying on his bed, still entirely dressed from his shift at the hospital and too tired to undress himself. He knows Lofty is going to be home in a couple hours though and he’s hoping he’ll have regained enough strength by then to have Lofty undress him instead.

“Ollie used to organize those.” Zosia says, and it’s a testament to how far she’s gone that there’s only a note of nostalgia in it instead of what used to be a barely hidden deluge of it. “You should ask him.”

Dom sighs. “You’re useless.”

Zosia laughs at that.

“Okay, what’s going on?” She asks eventually.

“Nothing, I’m just organizing a date.” Dom replies with his best nonchalant tone.

“It’s not Lofty’s birthday.” Zosia says because she’s not going to make this easy for him.

“Can’t a man just treat his boyfriend to dinner and a show?” Dom replies with a note of petulance. In his defense, this is getting way harder than previously anticipated and it’s only the beginning.

“Oh my G-d!” Zosia all but yells into his ear.

“What?”

“You’re proposing!” She says and Dom should be mad about it, but he’s mostly just impressed she still knows him so well to suss out what’s going on from the other side of the world.

“Zosia, you _cannot_ breathe a word to this to _anyone_.” Dom hisses into the phone.

“Dom, this is big.” Zosia says, and if she sounds a little chocked, well, Dom is enough of a friend to pretend not to notice.

“I know.” He replies instead. Zosia is an equally good friend and doesn’t mention how his voice has suddenly gone watery.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Zosia asks. Dom misses her, he misses her so much sometimes it feels like a physical ache. He’s proud of her and he loves her and wants her to succeed, but right now he wishes nothing more than for her to be sat next to him on his bed, helping him plan this.

“I love you, too.”

Zosia clears her throat and when she speaks again her voice is even. “Just call Oliver, I’m sure he knows someone.”

“Okay I will. Thank you.” Dom replies.

“Bye, Dom. I want to know all the details as soon as they’re available.” She says with a laugh. Dom can’t help but chuckle along.

“You’ll know anything as soon as I know it.” He replies before hanging up.

Dom takes a moment to compose himself. He’s still sprawled on his bed, but his feet are dangling off. He takes his shoes off and gets more comfortable, he’s taking the entire bed now, his head resting on Lofty’s pillow and his feet on his own side.

He dials Oliver’s number.

“Dom?” Oliver asks, he sounds perplexed. In his defense, while Dom and Oliver have been hanging out a lot more lately, it’s always been face to face rather than by phone.

“Hey Ollie, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, Zosia just texted. It was something about a proposal and theater tickets?” Oliver says, well, asks. “That doesn’t sound right.”

Oliver has been making great strides in his recovery in the past year. He remembers things more easily now and he’s even making progress in going back to practicing medicine. He might never be the surgeon he once was, but he’s still a brilliant diagnostician.

Still, sometimes Oliver gets confused in social situations, mostly because he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to remember something or if it’s new information.

Dom sighs. Lying to Oliver now would be cruel.

“Zosia said you could get me tickets for something upscale and nice.” Dom says. Avoidance isn’t lying.

“It’s true, isn’t it? You’re proposing to Lofty!” Oliver yells down the line, more excited than he has any right to be for nine pm on a Tuesday.

“Ollie, focus!” Dom says, but he can’t help smile at his phone. He’s doing this, he’s really doing this.

“Sure, sure. Leave it to me, I can get you something nice.” Oliver says, his voice breaking on the last word.

“Ollie, are you crying?” Dom asks because Oliver isn’t afforded the same courtesies as Zosia.

“No.” Oliver replies, sounding very much like someone who’s crying. “I’m just very happy for you. You both deserve this.” He continues, sounding genuinely happy. It makes Dom’s heart hurt and his throat close. He’s never cried out of happiness before, but this might be his first.

“Thank you.” Dom says. Neither one of the mentions how chocked it sounds.

-

Oliver gets Dom his tickets a few days later with a grin and an unsubtle thumbs up.

It’s for a staging of Les Misérables by some new fancy production company. It’s apparently all the rage and getting tickets is virtually impossible. It’s not exactly the most cheerful production to set the mood, but Dom knows Lofty likes it and that’s enough for him.

Dom would like to wait a bit longer to ask Lofty to go away with him for the weekend, but with Oliver knowing what’s going on, it seems to be impossible. It’s not that he’s afraid Oliver will spill the beans, despite the fact that the man has never been able to keep a secret the entire time Dom’s known him. It’s all the thumbs up, the grins, and the eyebrow wiggles.

Eventually someone is either going to cotton on or assume they’re having an affair.

“How does a weekend away in London sound?” Dom asks.

They’re both in the locker room getting changed, Lofty’s curls the only visible part of his head peeking from the neck hole of his scrubs.

“Sounds good.” Lofty replies once he’s freed himself from his shirt. “I doubt we can go get the whole weekend off though.” He continues going up to Dom and planting a kiss on his cheek before leaving.

“Leave that to me.” Dom says to the empty room.

-

Dom is a semi-reasonable person. He understands that the hospital staff doesn’t live to accommodate his romantic whims, he really does, but he’s also not letting this go. Dom knows himself well enough that he doesn’t want to risk giving himself enough time to chicken out.

In the end, he has to take out the big guns. He goes to Hanssen.

“Ah, Mr. Copeland, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Hanssen asks, barely moving from his position hunched over some documents. Or well, as hunched as Hanssen ever gets, which for normal people is just slightly curved forward. He gestures to Dom to take the seat in front of him.

“Hi Mr. Hanssen, sorry to bother you, I need to ask you something.” Dom says, sitting down.

Dom’s gotten pretty good over the last few years at deciphering Hanssen’s facial minutiae and he’s pretty sure he’s piqued his interest. Hopefully he can keep it long enough.

“I know you’re not usually the one who deals with this stuff, but I really need the next weekend free.” Dom says. He’s not above begging at this point.

“And why can’t you ask Human Resources about it?” Hanssen asks, with the glint in his eyes of someone who already knows the answer to that.

“Because they already said no. Well, they said yes to me, but no to also giving the weekend off to Nurse Chiltern.” Dom explains.

“I see why they would. We’re in the middle of an NHS crisis in case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Copeland.” Hanssen says. He’s still looking at Dom though, so he assumes he hasn’t been dismissed yet.

“I know, I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” Dom pleads.

Hanssen looks at him from above his glasses. It used to intimidate the hell out of Dom, but now he looks almost amused. Maybe he always was, Hanssen is fairly difficult to read.

“If you can find someone to cover Nurse Chiltern’s shift, I don’t see why he can’t have the weekend off.” Hanssen says in the end.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Hanssen.” Dom says, getting up from his chair.

He’s barely got one foot out of the door when Hanssen call his name.

“Mr. Copeland?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.” Hanssen says with a small smile on his face.

-

It takes Dom approximately five minutes to locate Essie in the break room. She’s sitting there with Sacha, drinking tea and laughing at something Sacha is saying. Dom only catches the end tail of it.

“I swear, that’s what he said!” Sacha says, a big grin plastered on his face.

“Essie, can I ask you a favor?” Dom asks, as soon as he’s into the door.

“No.” Essie says, but she’s smiling.

“What if I wanted to ask you to come with me to a spa for the weekend?” Dom asks sitting down in front of her.

“That’s how he roped me into painting his living room, don’t fall for it, it’s a trap.” Sacha interjects and Essie laughs.

“Essie, please, it’s important.” Dom pleads.

“Okay, what is it?” Essie asks.

“Can you cover Lofty’s shifts next weekend?” Dom asks flashing her his most charming smile.

“Told you.” Sacha stage whispers and Dom ignores him, taking one of Essie’s hands on the table.

“Please please please. I’ll owe you one.”

“You’ll owe me several.” Essie says, she doesn’t look happy, but she doesn’t look like she’s saying no either.

“So? You’ll do it?”

“Depends.” Essie says, teasing, because Essie is terrible. “Why do you need the weekend off?”

“Private stuff.” Dom replies.

“If I’m helping you I want to be paid in exclusive gossip.” She says, light and happy.

He knows he could refuse and she’d still do it. Dom thinks about it. Zosia, Oliver and even Hansson know already so it’s not much of a secret. And well, he wants to tell Essie and Sacha. They’ve always been there for Dom’s lowest moments, they deserve to be included in the happy ones too. Especially Sacha, the closest thing he’s ever had to a loving father figure.

“I’m proposing to Lofty.” He says, the words tumbling out of his mouth like they can’t wait to get out.

There is a split second of silence, then both Essie and Sacha start talking at the same time.

“Congratulations!” Sacha says, getting up to hug Dom.

“I’m so happy for you.” Essie says, squeezing his hand.

Dom lets himself be hugged and petted then chances a look at both of them. They’re both smiling, tears in their eyes.

“Please don’t start.” He says and both Essie and Sacha laugh. “I’m not even sure he’ll say yes.” He continues, finally voicing something that’s been at the back of his mind for a while. He knows he loves Lofty and he knows Lofty loves him, he’s sure of it, but is it enough? They’ve only ever discussed marriage vaguely, mostly in terms of other people’s. Dom’s pretty sure he’s voiced his opposition several times, in fact.

“He will.” Essie says, with a conviction in her voice that doesn’t leave room for any doubt. “And I’ll happily cover his shifts this weekend.”

“Whatever you need Dom, we’re here for you.” Sacha says, putting a warm hand on Dom’s shoulder.

-

Sacha helps him pick out the rings and hugs him outside the store. “I’m so proud of you.” He says.

-

The plan is this: romantic dinner at a good Italian restaurant (Lofty’s favorite), the play, and on the high of that go for a romantic stroll. There, Dom will give Lofty the speech he’s rehearsed and, if everything goes well, they can go celebrate in their hotel room.

-

He barely gets through dinner. The place is lovely and Lofty is clearly enjoying the food, but Dom is so nervous he can barely eat. Lofty is also the one doing most of the talking, while Dom occasionally interjects with “uhm”s and “ah”s.

Dom prides himself on being a stellar conversationalist, but this is just painful. Anxiety and excitement are gnawing on every nerve in his body, he feels electric, like if someone touched him he’d give them a shock.

The steak is nice though.

-

They’re barely settled into their very good theater seats when Dom realizes something isn’t right. For starters, they’re surrounded by twenty-something hipsters on all sides. Then, he notices there’s something slightly off with the iconic poster. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something weird about Cosette’s face.

Dom realizes what it is about halfway through the first act, when it’s heavily implied that the Thénardiers’ mistreatment of Cosette is due to her being a cyborg.

It just goes downhill from there.

-

They finally manage to walk out of the theater and Dom’s fairly sure this play was his Waterloo. He can’t possibly come back from this. He and Oliver have to have a serious conversation about what parts of Dom’s personality and interests led Oliver to believe he would enjoy something like this because they need to be eliminated with extreme prejudice.

He chances a look at Lofty, who’s looking as dazed as he’s feeling. Forget proposing, Lofty is going to break up with him after this disaster.

He opens his mouth to speak, at least try to apologize, lay all the blame at Oliver’s door, when Lofty beats him to it.

“They sure were enthusiastic, weren’t they?” He asks with extreme sincerity and Dom can’t help it, he laughs.

Lofty starts laughing too and all the tension in Dom’s body melts away.

Between the two of them they laugh themselves towards the nearest bench. It’s cold and dark, but not unpleasant yet. Especially not with Lofty pressed against him in his warm dark coat.

They manage to get themselves together in the end. Then it’s just them, sitting down on a London bench, so close to each other that someone looking at them wouldn’t be able to pinpoint where one finishes and the other begins.

These are some of Dom’s favorite moments with Lofty. The quiet ones where the silence stretches indefinite and comfortable. Neither one of them is particularly adept at comfortable silences, but somewhere along the line they realized just being there is enough. Just being close and being present is enough. They’re enough.

“I know why we’re here.” Lofty says, looking at Dom with an amused expression on his face.

“Do you?” Dom asks, getting closer to Lofty’s face. They’re sitting right under a streetlamp that’s bathing them both in golden light. It makes Dom feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

“You brought me here to tell me that you and Ollie are having an affair.” Lofty says laughing at his own joke. Dom huffs, once, to avoid laughing along and kisses the laughter from Lofty’s mouth.

It’s a sweet kiss, caught between a smile and something more.

“I’m out of Ollie’s league.” Dom replies in a whisper.

Dom’s been rehearsing speeches for days now. He’s made them funny, he’s made them heartfelt, he’s made them long, short, anything in between. He doesn’t remember a single one of those speeches now.

There’s just Lofty, his bright blue eyes looking at Dom like he’s the only person worth looking at in the world, his hair soft and dark, curling against his temples, his hand in Dom’s hand, warm despite the cold night air.

“Lofty.” Dom begins and his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest at any moment and go settle in Lofty’s hands, where it’s always belonged. “I love you.”

“I love you, too” Lofty says and it’s just as beautiful to hear as the first time Lofty ever said it.

Dom’s always been a smooth talker, it’s one of his many qualities, but now he’s sitting on a bench in the cold, staring at his boyfriend and he doesn’t know what to say. How can he explain how his heart is full just thinking about Lofty? How Lofty makes every day a new adventure he knows they’re going to embark on together? How he’s never felt safer or more loved than he is now?

“I don’t think I ever told you this, but some time before we started dating, Zosia asked me to describe you in a word and I said ‘perfect.’” Dom starts. “You’re not perfect. You definitely have flaws and no one knows that better than me.”

“Well, thanks.” Lofty interrupts in mock outrage, but he’s smiling still, so Dom will take that as a win.

“What I meant, was that you’re perfect for me.” Dom continues, smiling back at him. “You understand me, you make me a better man.” Maybe he should feel self-conscious, but it’s nothing Lofty doesn’t know. “I know I’m not the best at sharing my feelings, but I’m learning because you deserve it. You deserve someone who tells you, and shows you, how loved and appreciated you are. I want to be that person for you. I want to be the person you rely on.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out the little dark box. He opens it and Lofty gasps. It’s a simple band, platinum, not too showy because he knows Lofty wouldn’t like anything too ostentatious. He’s learning. “Marriage isn’t really something I ever saw myself doing, but with you, I want that. So, will you marry me?” He asks.

Lofty is looking at him, shocked, but happy, the smile on his face that could light up the entire city.

“Yes, I will marry you.” Lofty replies and warmth explodes into Dom’s chest.

It’s like every kiss, every date, every “I love you” rolled into one moment of forever.

They kiss, finally, again, sweet and emotional and one of them is smiling into it but Dom is too dazed to pinpoint who exactly. It’s perfect and it’s theirs and it’s forever.

-

They make a bet about who’s going to cry first when they tell them. Dom bets on Oliver, Lofty on Sacha.

Dom loses the twenty pounds.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! You can find me on tumblr @ [robertjacobsugdens](https://robertjacobsugdens.tumblr.com/)


End file.
